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The Taming of Xander Sterne


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of entering Xander’s bedroom suite, other than those occasions when she had to help him in or out of the shower, or to dress. Nor was there any reason for her to touch any of his no doubt priceless artwork. Why would she need to? He had a cleaning service that came in twice a week to vacuum and dust and do the laundry.

      All of his rules were for the benefit of her daughter.

      They were very similar to the rules that Malcolm had laid down for Daisy’s behaviour. Except he had gone even further once Daisy began to walk and talk, and stated that he didn’t so much as want to see or hear her. At least Xander hadn’t gone that far.

      Sam stood up and began to walk towards the kitchen. ‘That all seems perfectly clear.’

      ‘Samantha!’

      She halted abruptly but didn’t turn, swallowing as she realised her throat felt clogged with emotion. With tears. For having brought her daughter into yet another household where Daisy could perhaps be seen this time, but was certainly never to be heard.

      Somehow she had expected more of Xander Sterne.

      Oh, she had known before she met him, from reading newspaper articles about him over the years, that he was an arrogant playboy, who played as hard as he worked. She had also been aware, when she’d met him on Wednesday, that he obviously resented needing her help while his brother was away and she had been prepared to deal with that.

      But she wasn’t sure she could deal with having to subdue her daughter’s enthusiasm for life just to make him happy.

      She was no longer interested in making any man happy. Which was the main reason Sam hadn’t so much as dated once these past three years; she had vowed never to put her daughter in a situation like the one she had suffered with Malcolm for the first two years of her life.

      Once again Sam reminded herself that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

      Perhaps not, but she didn’t have to let another arrogant man dictate his terms to her, either.

      She wanted this job—the money was too good for her not to want it—but there was only so much she was willing to put up with in order to keep it.

      Sam turned sharply on her heel, an angry flush in her cheeks as she glared across the dining room at Xander Sterne. ‘I heard what you said, Mr Sterne, and I’ll do my best to see that you aren’t unnecessarily inconvenienced by having Daisy here. But I won’t go any further than that.’ She met his gaze challengingly now. ‘If you aren’t happy with that, then perhaps you should say so now and Daisy and I can leave tomorrow morning so that other arrangements can be made for you?’

      Samantha was magnificent when she was angry. Her red hair, even though it was confined in a band at her crown, seemed to bristle and shimmer with electricity, her eyes glowed a deep amethyst, and her cheeks were flushed.

      Her nipples were also tight against the fitted white shirt she was wearing.

      Not that Xander was stupid enough to say any of that out loud; in his experience, and contrary to what a lot of other men believed, most women did not appreciate being told they looked magnificent when they were angry. Not surprising, when it sounded so damned patronising.

      ‘I’m fine with the present arrangement,’ he rasped dismissively, knowing his love for Darius and Andy gave him no real choice in the matter. But that didn’t mean he had to like it!

      Samantha blinked, her expression uncertain now. ‘You are?’

      ‘Do you consider any of my requests to be unreasonable? And they are requests, Samantha, not rules. If there is a problem, then tell me so now, so that we can discuss it.’

      ‘I— Well— No.’ She looked disconcerted. ‘But obviously Daisy is a child and—’

      ‘It will be fine,’ Xander bit out impatiently as he stood up from the table, his hand resting on the back of his chair for balance. ‘Have you been divorced long?’ he asked, the sharp shift in conversation catching Samantha off guard.

      ‘Three years,’ Samantha answered woodenly, her gaze no longer meeting his.

      ‘Bad divorce?’

      ‘Is there such a thing as a good one?’

      ‘Probably not.’ Nevertheless, Xander couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied with her answer. Again.

      All of the answers Samantha had given him so far, concerning her marriage and divorce, had been ambiguous, to say the least.

      Darius had been right when he accused Xander of having become too self-centred in the weeks since his accident, deliberately so, after what had preceded that accident.

      No matter how much Xander might wish it were otherwise, the arrival of Samantha and Daisy in his apartment now seemed to have made it impossible for him to continue to maintain that aloofness.

      In fact, since their arrival earlier this evening Xander had felt a burning and increasing curiosity to learn all and everything there was to know about the woman who was to share his apartment for the next two weeks.

      As much, it seemed, as Samantha was determined not to tell him.

      Just what was she hiding?

      ‘Have you and Miranda known each other long?’ Xander decided to try a different approach to find out what he really wanted to know.

      Samantha frowned slightly before answering him cautiously.

      ‘Andy and I met six months ago, when Daisy started taking ballet lessons.’

      He nodded. ‘When I talked to Andy earlier in the week she spoke very highly of you.’ He wasn’t about to admit how protective his almost sister-in-law had been about Samantha and her young daughter. To the point where Andy had warned him to keep his hands to himself where her friend was concerned!

      Xander had found the warning amusing at the time; after all, he couldn’t even stand on his own two feet without the assistance of his crutches at the moment, so he was hardly likely to be making a move on the woman.

      After spending just a few hours in Samantha’s company, however, he found himself definitely regretting that lack of mobility.

      ‘That’s very kind of her.’ Samantha smiled. ‘Andy’s very easy to get along with.’

      Xander nodded. ‘I bet Daisy is good at ballet too?’

      Her smile became openly affectionate. ‘She loves it.’

      ‘And does Daisy spend much time with her father?’

      Sam drew in a sharp breath as she realised that Xander had been lulling her into a false sense of security these past few minutes, and that he had now decided to pounce. No wonder he and his brother were so successful in business; most people would know, from a single meeting, to be cautious where the brooding Darius was concerned, but they would feel less of a need with the supposedly easy-going Xander.

      But perhaps she was being unfair, and Xander hadn’t had this hard edge to him before his car accident six weeks ago?

      No, he’d still have had the edge, Sam decided ruefully, he just chose to hide it behind that easy-going charm. A charm he was making no effort to maintain in front of her. And why should he? She was here to work, not be charmed into his bed as so many other women had been.

      Her eyes narrowed. ‘Daisy will be spending all of her time here with me for the next two weeks when she isn’t at school.’

      ‘That didn’t exactly answer my question.’

      Sam maintained that steady eye contact. ‘I thought it did.’

      His mouth firmed. ‘Is your husband away?’

      ‘Ex-husband,’ Sam corrected. ‘And I have no idea whether he’s away or not. Now if you will excuse me?’ she added briskly as she gathered up the used dessert bowl. ‘I still have to tidy up in the kitchen.’

      ‘It